


words were never so useful

by infinitefire



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Feelings, and more about communication, are my fics all starting to sound the same??, more post-banquet scene stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:35:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25567552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinitefire/pseuds/infinitefire
Summary: As soon as the doors to Calanthe’s chambers close, Eist falls to his knees.
Relationships: Calanthe Fiona Riannon/Eist Tuirseach
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	words were never so useful

**Author's Note:**

> title from “all this and heaven too” by florence + the machine

As soon as the doors to Calanthe’s chambers close, Eist falls to his knees.

It was a bold decision, he knows, announcing their engagement like that when she hadn’t actually  _ said _ she’d marry him, when he could only infer what she meant when she’d pressed herself closer and clung to him more tightly in response to his whispered proposal during the whirlwind. True, she gave him that small smile after he made the announcement. True, she announced that their vows would be tonight with three times his conviction. True, her gaze held a certain softness when she looked at him as they made those vows. But these are small tokens of reassurance, and no matter how well he has learned to read the language of her tone and the details of the expression on her face, these things she says implicitly in a room full of people watching are meaningless compared to the things she says out loud, here and now, when they are alone, and Eist needs to be sure she understands. So he kneels, tells her, “My Queen, you must know that I announced our betrothal to spare further damage. I did not wish to force your hand. I would never wish to force your hand. You will rule Cintra, as always. I am devoted to you, always.”

Calanthe, who has been looking at him curiously since she heard his knees hit the ground, comes closer, close enough that the fabric of her skirt almost brushes his face, reaches down to cup his cheek, silences him with a thumb on his lips.

“I know,” she whispers.

Then, to his surprise, she falls to her knees as well. Before he can react, she’s kissing him, lips soft and certain and gentler than he remembers, hands burying themselves in his hair.

There is a message on her lips, forgiveness and an apology, and a quiet declaration. It passes from her lungs to his, reverberates in the space between. She could speak it, but this language forms more naturally on her tongue than words. 

Even so, some things require more clarity than a kiss can provide. These are the hardest things to say aloud. But Calanthe cares far too much, loves him far too much, to risk leaving them unspoken. So she breaks her lips away from his, leaning their foreheads together.

“My King,” she begins, voice thick with emotion, “you must know that I honor my promises. I did not promise Pavetta to Duny. It was not my promise to honor. Or so I thought. But the promises I made to you—I have only ever promised you what is mine to give, and I honor those promises, always.”

Even when Calanthe speaks plainly, speaks to be clear, there is still depth and weight and meaning to the things she says between the lines.

_ “My King.” _ An echo of his earlier “my Queen.” In a sense, an echo of his “I am devoted to you” as well. Meaning,  _ I trust you; I trust you with my kingdom; I trust you with my body; I trust you with my heart. _

_ “I honor those promises.”  _ Meaning,  _ I promised you my love, and every day, I choose to love you.  _ Also meaning,  _ I promised you my love, and here it is, here I am, giving you my love; I love you. _

Eist hears all of it.

“I know,” he whispers, leaning in to brush his lips against hers.

_ “I know.”  _ Another echo. Meaning,  _ I understand, and I forgive you. _

He looks into her eyes. “I love you, Calanthe.”

_ “Calanthe.” _ Not “Your Majesty,” not “my Queen,” not “Queen Calanthe.” Not even “my Calanthe” or “my love,” as he has always called her in private. Simply “Calanthe.” Meaning,  _ I love you for you, for who you are beneath the crown and title, for who you are because of it, for who you are in spite of it; I love you, even if you are not mine, even if you give me nothing of yourself; you are not mine any more than you choose to be; you are your own, and I love you for it. _

There are tears in her eyes. “I love you, Eist.”

The words barely come out, can barely be heard.

  
_ “Eist.”  _ She calls him this, simply “Eist,” more often than he calls her simply “Calanthe.” Considering her status, it has always been within her rights to do so. But it means the same as his  _ “Calanthe.” _ And it means just as much, and it is felt, on both sides, just as deeply.

**Author's Note:**

> and then they probably broke the bed that night... if they made it that far...
> 
> comments, [tumblr](https://firesofthestars.tumblr.com), come scream at me about these two!! (please i’m bored)


End file.
